by Jaid Black
Jek closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “Thank the goddess.”
Kil stared open-mouthed at him for a moment before he found his voice. “Thank the goddess?” he bellowed. “’Tis sorely apparent I was fool enough to place my own Sacred Mate within a harem for the love of the sands!—an unforgivable transgression for which she has escaped me—and to this you say naught but thank the goddess?”
Jek had the good grace to blush at that. “’Twas not why I was thanking her, Mighty One.”
“Then why?” he growled, alighting to his feet.
“’Twas my fear you were becoming…touched in the head.” He clapped a hand to his forehead and groaned. “Thank the goddess ‘tis just a malady of the hearts brought on by repeated separation from your nee—”
“Touched in the head?”
Jek sighed, realizing as he did that there was no graceful exit from such a statement. “You, uh, have been…different as of late.”
Kil grunted. He feared to hear the answer, but decided to ask the question any way. “How so?”
Jek had no trouble ticking off a list. In fact, Kil thought with a glower, he seemed to take great joy in the doing. “Well for starters, you have coupled with none but Mari for as long as you have owned her.”
Kil’s teeth clicked shut. He grunted. “Cannot a warrior be possessed of the headache without ridicule?”
Jek held up a second finger and plowed onwards. “One of Rem’s bound servants let it be known that…”
Kil whimpered, dreading the telling.
“…your man staff would not—”
“Alright.” Kil slashed a hand tersely through the air. “I had imbibed of much matpow that eve. Let us belabor the point no more.”
Jek held up a third finger.
Kil winced.
“And then there is the undeniable fact that as of late you have been…” His nose wrinkled in distaste. “…nice.”
Nice? Arrg! “I am never nice,” Kil huffed. “Leastways,” he sniffed, “is it against the Holy Law to show a kindness to one’s underlings?”
“Nay, but you have also shown a kindness to our enemies—”
“When?” he gritted out. “How?”
Jek inclined his head. “When we were battling in the far sectors and won, you took none of the enemy’s wenches into your harem.”
“I had the headache,” he gritted out. “By the sands, cannot a warrior be possessed of the headache!” His hand slashed through the air again. “’Tis for a certainty I can out-couple any warrior alive should I desire it.”
Jek held up a fourth finger.
“Bah!” Kil spat. “Put down your bedamned finger before I break it off for you.” His eyes narrowed menacingly. “You make it sound as though I was spotted skipping through trelli fields with joo-joo flowers woven into my hair.” His jaw clenched. “So I refused a few couplings here and there. Now we know the why of it.”
Jek nodded sincerely. “’Twas why I was thanking the goddess, Mighty One.”
—Arrg! “Fine. Let us belabor the point no more.” His nostrils flared. “I need to hunt down my heeka-beast of a nee’ka.”
Jek chuckled. “Shall we scout the nests in Koror?”
Kil found his first grin since realizing Mari had fled from him. “’Twill be the second place we look.”
“And the first?”
Kil stopped smiling as he pondered the matter over. His first guess would be that Mari had fled back to the Wani. But nay, after he considered it further he knew she would never do anything that might put her adoptive clan in harm’s way. She was thoughtful that way. Luckily his connection to her, a connection he now understood the reason behind, ensured that he could second-guess her movements better than any other.
“My heeka-beast will go to where she feels most at home…”
Jek nodded, the grim features that looked so much like Kil’s softening a bit as he grinned. “Mayhap to a place where the pigs hold no power and the paradigms have been subverted.”
Kil grinned back.
They looked at each other and smiled, then said simultaneously, “Galis.”
Chapter 15
Meanwhile, on the green moon of Ti Q’won…
“’Tis many thanks I give to you, Auntie, for allowing me to stay here with Jana for a spell.” Seated at the royal raised table in the dining hall, High Princess Kara Q’ana Tal smiled affectionately at her aunt, Queen Geris.
Geris grinned. “We’re glad to have you here. Aren’t we Dak?”
“For a certainty,” the king said between bites of his stew. He summoned himself a piece of maga bread. “’Twas sporting of your future Sacred Mate to allow you to leave Sand City and visit with us for a time.”
Kara’s smiled faltered at the mention of High Lord Cam K’al Ra. “Aye,” she said weakly, “sporting.”
Princess Jana, as golden as her sire, immediately changed the subject. “Mani,” she said, her glowing blue eyes finding her mother’s brown ones, “mayhap Kara, Dari, and I can visit the shopping stalls on the morrow?”
Geris smiled. “Sure, baby. I don’t see why not.”
“So long as you take the warrior guardsmen,” Dak announced. “Or your brother Dar.”
“Aye, papa.” Jana glanced from her father to Kara, then back to her mother. “May we be excused, mani?”
Geris’ lips puckered into a frown. “But you’ve hardly eaten, baby.”
Jana smiled, a bit nervously to Dar’s way of thinking for he raised a golden eyebrow whilst he watched her trip over her tongue. “M-Mayhap we can finish eating in my bedchamber?” she asked.
Geris glanced toward Dak. When he didn’t say anything, she shrugged her shoulders. “Fine. Go on then.”
“Thank-you, mani.”
Jana, Kara, and Dari scurried to stand up at the same time. Each of them picked up a platter, stopped briefly at the king and queen’s sides to place a kiss on their cheeks, and hightailed it out of the dining hall.
Dar watched them make their exit through curious eyes. He turned to his mother. “I shall accompany them to the shopping stalls on the morrow, mani. Have you the desire to go as well?”
Geris picked up a slice of the maga bread and shook her head. “It sounds fun, sweetheart, but your Aunt Kyra has challenged me to a game of holo-maze.” She harrumphed. “Time to win back them damn fifty credits,” she mumbled under her breath.
Dar grinned, a dimple popping out onto his cheek. “You and Auntie take your holo-mazing seriously.”
Dak snorted at that. “’Tis the understatement of this millennium.”
Geris frowned at her husband, then turned to her son and ruffled his golden blonde hair affectionately. “Keep a good eye on the girls, baby.” She sighed, her demeanor growing serious. “Especially Dari and Kara. They worry me.”
Dar nodded, though he thought to himself that Jana needed watched over as closely as the other two. Dari and Kara were mischief-makers, aye, but Jana was just as wily. “For a certainty,” he murmured.
Chapter 16
Crystal City on Planet Galis
Trek Mi Q’an Galaxy, Seventh Dimension
Marty and Ora could only gawk at their new surroundings. The rumors concerning Galis had indeed been true. This Jupiter-sized planet which sat nestled in between Zolak, which was roughly the same size, and Tryston, which was ten times bigger, was an avowed independent feminist’s dream come true.
Here, as with the Wani, women ruled all facets of government and trade. Unlike the males of Wani, however, the men of Galis weren’t treated harshly and given few rights. They had the say-so to make their own decisions and choose their own life-courses, it was just that the vast majority of them were content to let the women warriors rule over them.
Unlike the Wani of Tron, the female warriors of Galis were not disproportionately huge in comparison to their males. On the contrary, they were a bit smaller. The average Galis male stood about six feet in height, while the average Galis female stood approximately two to th
ree inches shorter. In other words, the women of the planet were about the size of tall earth women, except for the fact that their bodies tended to be better honed and they sported sleek, sexy muscles.
Marty hated to admit it, but after having shared the bed of a seven and a half foot warlord who probably weighed in the vicinity of four hundred plus pounds, the males of Galis appeared rather weak and ordinary in comparison to him. Of course, it didn’t help matters much that they tended to be on the emotional side, prone towards pouting when their women didn’t give them their way, and sometimes even breaking out into bouts of tears if they were scolded by them.
Marty harrumphed. Definitely not groovy.
“’Tis like the realm of the goddess, is it not?” Ora whispered out the question as she gaped upwards at the beautiful white crystal high-rise structure that was to be their new home.
“Yeah, it is.” Marty grinned as she glanced down at the palm of her hand. “The suite keeper said all we have to do is place our palms on the front door of our new apartm—er—suite, and the recognition scanner within it will recognize our prints and let us in.” She shook her head in awe, having been catapulted from earth long before such things had ever been dreamed up let alone concocted. “It’s truly amazing.”
Ora shrugged, having known such technology all of her life. She was in awe of the planet itself for the beauty, wealth, and technology of the place were the stuff of legends. “I am fair bursting with excitement to see our new quarters, Mari.” She jumped up and down a bit, her breasts jiggling with the movements. “Shall we go inside now, or mayhap you would prefer to dine at one of the stalls first?”
“I am hungry,” Marty admitted, “but I’d really like to go upstairs and see our new place before we eat.” She shuddered. “Our suite, however, is on the hundredth floor. This should be one hell of a long elevator ride.”
“Elevator?” Ora’s brow furrowed. “I know not your meaning, yet will the transport lift us instantaneously. ‘Twill take but the blink of an eye and we will find ourselves spit out on the hundredth floor.”
Marty’s jaw dropped open. “You’re kidding!”
“Nay.” Ora giggled. “Your earth must be nigh unto primitive.”
Marty agreed. In comparison it was. “Let’s go on up then. I want to see it before we eat and I’m starving.”
As Marty strolled arm-in-arm with Ora to the transport situated on the outside of the white crystal high-rise, she adamantly reminded herself that she absolutely did not miss Kil. She refused to consider the fact that finding it necessary to remind herself that she didn’t miss him was telling unto itself.
* * * * *
Marty pressed a hand to her belly when another strange flutter went through it. Ignoring the sensation, she allowed Ora to lead her into an elegant dining stall that was draped with shimmering gold material similar to a qi’ka.
On Galis, women did not wear qi’kas—the one planetary exception in the entire galaxy of Trek Mi Q’an, she’d been told. Ora had explained to Marty that the emperor allowed them to continue on with their native dress because the Galians were law-abiding citizens who harbored a distinct dislike of insurrectionists as strongly as the warriors of Trek Mi Q’an did.
So the Galians wore what they would, their leaders content to answer to an emperor who stayed put out of their day-to-day living. Traditional Galian dress, however, was just as scandalous in its own right as a qi’ka. In fact, the zoka was made up of even less material than the qi’ka of a free woman, consisting of nothing more than a see through gee-string and criss-cross sandals that tied at the back of the knee. Breasts were left naked, as there was no top portion to the zoka.
The zoka Marty wore this evening was a shimmering aqua thong with gold sandals, two colors that contrasted well against her lightly tanned skin. Ora looked equally fetching in a silver thong with maroon sandals.
Marty stifled a tremor of giddiness as she and Ora sauntered into the eating establishment. Sometimes it still amazed her that she, Marty Mathews, had somehow managed to catapult from earth to live in what was now her fourth alien civilization. Absolutely astounding.
Equally amazing was the fact that she was so used to walking around with her breasts jiggling to and fro, that it no longer bothered her to have men stare at them, clearly desiring her. In fact, watching men stare at her naked breasts, as a few patrons in the dining stall were currently doing, was definitely arousing. Not arousing in the sense that she wanted to have sexual relations with the men, but physically arousing in the sense that it turned her on to be stared at and sexually coveted by them.
“Ooohh,” Ora whispered as the women took their seats on the vesha pad they’d been escorted to, “these pads feel much like the harem pillows, do they not?”
Marty flinched as if she’d been struck, the reminder of the king she’d left behind unexpectedly upsetting.
“Oh goddess,” Ora said in the way of apology, “’tis sorry I am to have—”
“Forget it.” Marty smiled as she settled her body down and propped herself up on her left elbow. “Really.”
Ora propped herself up on her right elbow so that they were lying face to face across from each other. She sighed. “I keep putting my foot in my mouth, I fear...”
She broke off from speaking when a naked serving wench strolled over to their pad and kneeled down to place a long golden trencher in between them. The serving wench, a beautiful redhead with pearly, porcelain skin, smiled at them. “There’s enough food here to feed four,” she offered in Trystonni. “Enjoy.”
Marty smiled. “We will. Thanks.”
The serving wench inclined her head, then stood up to leave. “Press the holo-button at the head of the trencher if you need me.”
Ora cocked her head as she studied her. Her eyes narrowed speculatively. “You seem familiar to me. Were you ever placed within a harem?”
The redhead grinned. “No, can’t say that I was.” She stood up, which drew the women’s gaze to the trimmed thatch of wine-red curls between her thighs. “Lots of people say that to me, though. That I seem familiar to them, I mean.” She shrugged.
“Oh well,” Ora said, shrugging her own shoulders, “you mayhap have one of those faces then.”
“Perhaps.” The redhead smiled down to them before leaving. “If you need anything, just holler.”
Marty nodded. “What’s your name by the way?”
“Kara, but to be honest nobody has called me that in years.” She grinned, causing a dimple to pop out on either cheek. “When I first arrived on Galis the women christened me Kari.”
“Ahh.” Marty understood all about that. She grinned back. “They couldn’t pronounce your name I take it?”
“Something like that.” Kari pointed to the wine-red hair cascading down her back. “But mostly they named me Kari because of the color of my hair.”
“What does Kari mean in Galian?”
“Fire-berry.”
* * * * *
Kil’s nostrils flared as Mari’s scent filled them. He was close, he knew. Very, very close.
Methodically, his gaze flicked about the main street of Crystal City. To the east, to the west—back to the east. His eyes narrowed. “I detect the scent of her arousal,” he murmured.
Jek’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “Which way did she go?”
Kil’s jaw clenched. If Mari had dared to give her channel to another male, even a lesser male, he would not be responsible for his actions. “East,” he growled.
* * * * *
“Wow.”
Marty chuckled softly as she and Ora watched Kari perform a very tantalizing strip tease for the viewing pleasure of the warriors who had come to Crystal City either on trading business or just to see what the legendary planet was like. The warriors whistled and catcalled, all of them worked up into sexual need watching the beautiful redhead perform.
Ora giggled. “The warriors lounged about are nigh unto bursting.”
“Uh huh.” Still propped up on h
er left elbow, Marty grinned as she glanced up at the stage. “I had no idea the servers here put on shows as well.”
Ora nodded. “Galis is where the erotic arts first began thousands of Yessat years past. The wenches of these sectors are the most skilled in the galaxies for they study the art of peaking for many, many years before they become full-time performers.”
Marty shook her head and smiled wryly. The art of peaking indeed. “So Kari is still a student then?”
“Aye. When her mistress feels she is fully trained she will practice the erotic arts as a full-time craft. Until then…” She shrugged. “An apprentice still has bills to pay.”
“Hence the trencher-serving bit.”
“Aye.”
Marty’s brow wrinkled in thought. “What exactly is the art of peaking?”
Ora looked at her as though she’d lost her mind.
Marty rolled her eyes. “I know what peaking is, Ora. I mean how exactly do these erotic arts performers make it a—well, an art?”
“Oh that.” She sighed. “I wish I knew how ‘tis they do what they do, but the Galian wenches are very secretive about their craft.”
“But what is it that they do?” She threw a hand toward the stage. “Kari’s little performance is hot and all, but she’s not doing anything unexplainable.”
“Ah but the show is not yet over,” Ora murmured. “Watch for yourself and witness the art of peaking.”
Marty gave up and watched in silence, realizing as she did that Ora would not be forthcoming with information. Her friend wanted her to be surprised, so surprised she supposed she’d have to be.
One thing Marty had to hand to Kari was her ability to put on a good show. Her movements were graceful, agile, a woman who for all appearances had been born to seduce. The way she slowly strode across the stage with confidence, the way she rubbed her hands all over her body as though it was made of the finest silk—everything she did was sexy and arousing.